


Royal Flush

by softintelligence



Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-29
Updated: 2013-09-29
Packaged: 2017-12-27 22:13:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,789
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/984208
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/softintelligence/pseuds/softintelligence
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Futurefic: Midorima receives an unexpected text from Kise and has to deal with the consequences.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Royal Flush

**Author's Note:**

  * For [gamblers](https://archiveofourown.org/users/gamblers/gifts).



Midorima was half-way through tightening his tie when he received the text. It was probably Akashi, telling him about the latest shogi match he was having with old men in the park; Takao, with his aggravatingly cheerful good morning messages; or even Murasakibara, reporting to Midorima his latest plethora of snacks. Two years out of university, and Midorima could confidently say that nothing had gone according to plan, but at least he hadn’t had to do it all alone. He’d had Oha Asa, Shuutoku, and the other Miracles. Midorima even counted idiot Kagami among these, although with the way Kagami had asked for his academic help throughout college, Midorima thought it was Kagami, instead, who had been lucky to have Midorima’s patience and hand-crafted pencils on his side. 

Then again, Kagami was a surprisingly good method of conflict resolution when it came to Akashi. Akashi had changed his viewpoint on victory over the years to, “Even if I don’t win, I’m still right,” which the Generation of Miracles, Midorima included, found even more unbearable. Eventually, when Akashi was caught in one of his “moods,” they had Kagami talk to him, no matter what hour it was in the States. It was surprisingly effective.

Lost in thought, he forgot about the text message on his phone and stepped out the door. The train station was crowded as always in the mornings, but Midorima simply plugged his headphones into his iPhone and began to listen to Bach.

Oha Asa had reported Cancer was Rank 2. He had his lucky item, a yellow scarf, tucked into his briefcase. 

There was nothing that could go wrong. 

\---

Midorima was halfway through his morning commute when his phone buzzed again, and he remembered the morning text he’d received but had yet to look at. He pulled his phone out of his pocket and stared at the name on the lock screen of his phone.

Kise Ryouta.

Midorima opened the texts.

The more recent text said: ‘Midorimacchi~! I hope you’re not ignoring me! We should get lunch, if you’re not too busy making salary! Haha! ★’

The older text said: ‘Midorimacchi~! I’m back from overseas. I guess I worked my ankle too hard, huh? They said I probably won’t be able to play again for a few seasons. Haha! (*≧▽≦)ﾉｼ))’

Midorima felt frozen to the spot, the sound of Bach a melodramatic touch to the whole situation. It was comedic, really. Aomine, Kise, and Kagami had been the three to move on to professional basketball after high school. When Kise had been recruited, he had made a show of nearly crying, but he was more serious than ever, putting in longer practice hours than Aomine and Kagami. When Aomine praised him, Kise laughed and said, “I’m on the same level as you now, you know!” 

Reading these texts from Kise, Midorima felt a hint of remorse. Today, Gemini was Rank 1, but lately he’d noticed that Gemini was consistently in the lower rankings, and he hadn’t acted upon it.

He texted Kise back with a possible time to meet up for dinner. Kise replied almost immediately, a flurry of emoji, sparkles, hearts, and stars. Midorima felt his temper snap and replied, ‘Stop trying so hard. It’s irritating.’ 

Kise’s response did not come immediately, and the iciness of his response to Kise sunk into his bones. He was halfway through composing a not-apology when a new text from Kise arrived.

‘You’re the first person I’ve told, Midorimacchi! Anyway, I’ll meet you at the restaurant tonight!’

Midorima sighed and turned the volume up on his music. 

\---

Work went terribly, and Midorima regretted not going through with med school like he had planned as a middle schooler, and regretted his regret. Although he had seriously considered becoming a doctor, Takao had told him that his particular form of abrasiveness probably wouldn’t work well in the medical field, and Midorima found the specificity and cleanliness of numbers just as satisfying, anyway. The best part was that balancing checkbooks for major companies paid well enough. 

On the way to the restaurant, he looked up Gemini’s lucky item and bought a stuffed duck. 

Kise was already waiting outside, his hands in his pockets. He looked fashionable as ever, with his scarf and his cardigan and nice pants that probably cost more than Midorima’s suit combined. 

Just as Midorima was going to call Kise’s name, Kise turned and smiled. His face lit up. His eyelashes looked even longer than the last time he’d seen Kise. “Midorimacchi!” Kise said, waving casually. “For a second, I thought you were going to stand me up!”

Midorima scoffed. “How dare you,” he said. “I would never stand up anyone.” 

“Uh-huh.” Kise looked into the restaurant. “It’s very fancy. I just wanted a quick dinner, you know.”

“Don’t underestimate me.” Midorima stepped inside, Kise following, and the maitre-d’ smiled and sat them down. 

“Seems like they know you,” Kise said, picking up the menu. “You turned out to be a pretty high-class guy, huh?” He laughed, hollowly. 

“There is no need to act like an idiot around me,” Midorima said. He would order his usual: the red bean soup, with red bean milk tea, with extra red bean. Takao would have said it was a bit of an overload, but it wasn’t very often that Midorima had a chance to indulge himself in fancy red bean. “Your injury--you’ll still be able to play again, right?”

“Well,” Kise was flipping through the menu, even though Midorima knew he was probably going to order something like a salad with chicken in it, “it’s just two seasons. But that’s still a long time, you know? Aominecchi and Kagamicchi aren’t injured, so … they’ll just surpass me while I’m away.” Kise sighed. “And just when I thought I was getting close.”

Midorima shook his head. “What about your team?”

“They’ll be fine,” Kise said. “Of course it helps when I’m on the team, but …” He smiled brightly. Midorima wondered how Kise maintained such perfect, even color in his teeth. “You know, it’s good that they don’t rely on me completely.” 

A waitstaff came by and took their order. Midorima ordered his red beans, and Kise ordered the salad, as expected. Midorima was glad to see that that hadn’t changed at all. 

“Wait,” Kise said, to the waitstaff. “Do you have an espresso, by any chance? I just got back from a long flight.” 

“The espresso's broken,” the waitstaff said, and bowed deeply. “I’m sorry.”

“Ah, never mind, then.” Kise turned back to Midorima. “I’m thinking about modeling and doing more rehab here in Japan. You know, until I recover.” 

“Hm,” Midorima said.

“I learned a lot of tricks during rehab in Los Angeles,” Kise said. He reached under the table and pulled out a pack of cards. “Look.” 

Kise showed him the top card. King of Diamonds. He flipped the card face down, cut the deck, and showed Midorima the top card again. Two of Hearts. 

“What is this,” Midorima said.

“Just wait and see,” Kise said, and flipped the card back over, facedown. “It’s Two of Hearts at the top, isn’t it?” 

Kise flipped the top card again. King of Diamonds. 

“Hm,” Midorima said, again. “So, I’m supposed to be impressed?”

Kise pouted. It was strange on him. In high school, it was pathetic and childish. Now that Kise was older, his jawline more defined but his face still unbelievably handsome, it was almost endearing. “I know a lot more than just this! I’ll show you!” 

“I didn’t know you were into petty sleight of hand.”

“It passes the time,” Kise said, shuffling the cards together with a riffle bridge. He did it three times, and then began to lay the cards out. Ace of Hearts. King of Hearts. Queen of Hearts. Jack. Ten. Nine. Eight. Seven. Six. Five. Four. Then, diamonds. 

“That’s impressive,” Midorima said. “How did you do that?”

“I learned by watching the guy in the bed next to me,” Kise said. “And he said, ‘A magician never reveals his secrets.’” Kise laughed again, too loudly. “Too bad these are just illusions, Midoramicchi. You can’t use sleight of hand with torn muscles.”

“So you’re staying here,” Midorima said.

“Mmhmm,” Kise said. “My parents invited me back, but I don’t want to burden them. Right now I’ve got a hotel checked out for a week.” He took a deep breath and swept his hair out of his face. “You know, that’s why I wanted to talk to you. I was wondering … I don’t want to stay with Murasakibaracchi or Akashicchi … ah … not even the Kaijou teammates, or my college buddies …” 

Realization dawned on him as Kise spoke. “You want to stay at my place,” Midorima said.

Kise smiled hopefully.

Midorima’s immediate instinct was to say ‘no,’ but--there wasn’t a logical reason to do so, was there. He stared at his briefcase and leaned down to snap it open, pulling the yellow duck out. “You’re already Rank 1,” he said, pushing it across the table. “But it seems like you’ve needed this for a while.”

“Oh, so you do think of me after all!” Kise took the duck with a childish sense of glee, petting it.

“You make enough to rent your own place,” Midorima said. “And what about Kuroko.” 

“I don’t want to live alone, Midorimacchi!” Kise said. “And Kurokocchi definitely won’t take me in! Plus …” Kise glared at his duck, before frowning apologetically at it. “I don’t want anyone to pity me. And you definitely wouldn’t.” 

“Neither would Akashi. Or Murasakibara.”

“They would, in their own way,” Kise said.

That was probably true. Besides, there was no logical reason to say no. Kise could help pay the rent, and Midorima could save even more for a house, to support his parents. His apartment was already big enough to house scores of people. Hadn’t he always been expecting this, anyway?--for someone, Aomine, Kise, Murasakibara, even Takao--to show up at his doorstep and say something like, “Yo, Midorima, I’m homeless, take me in!”, as though Midorima were that generous. 

“Fine,” Midorima said, because he’d gone soft over the years. “But it won’t be easy. You’ll do your share of household chores as well. I won’t tolerate my home being ruined.”

Kise’s lips quirked up into a small smile. He lowered his eyelashes and leaned over, propping his chin up with one hand, the other still holding the duck, and said, in a low voice, “Don’t worry. I will definitely do my share around your house, Midorimacchi.”

“That’s indecent,” Midorima said, disgusted, then sighed and pushed his glasses up. “But I suppose I’m lucky to have you stay,” and Midorima considered the flabbergasted look on Kise’s face a reward.


End file.
